29 January 2014

witness

homemadetomato soup dripping from my mustacheonto my corduroysi still feel coffee in my bloodhear the outsidefromfromfromi sled down snowy rivers on a hillshe returns mouthsay i saw a mansay say enough to sound like speakingcat w/ no front claws paws on my legasking read into bones no the vibration healsits ear on the trackslisten to the killing machine thunderyou can count distancebetween lightthe strikeand deth of us